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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29105454">if you're looking for a home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/weeniewife/pseuds/weeniewife'>weeniewife</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Dates, Drinking, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, brief largo mention, hehe. fizzart., old men dating, rip fizzarts, sad dads date each other and are sad.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 14:07:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29105454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/weeniewife/pseuds/weeniewife</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war's end, Haar's immeasurable loss haunted him and he leapt at the opportunity to live somewhere new.<br/>He's dissociated and slept through most of his time in Fodlan, but somehow the brief interactions with one of the regulars he drops off packages for turned into something else.</p>
<p>[everyone's living in the same apartment complex au; medieval Haar transplanted into modern Fodlan]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Haar (fire emblem)/Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>apartment au!</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>if you're looking for a home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for context: Haar was given the opportunity to move to "modern-day" Fodlan and he leapt at it. Still delivering packages.<br/>Rodrigue has a stuffy job in politics and spends most of his time in a prominent building at the center of the city.</p>
<p>if you're reading through the au, this takes place before most other fics but they don't really matter outside of this fic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Driving a car wasn’t anything like riding a wyvern.</p>
<p>That seemed like a pretty solid, reasonable statement. Something a sane man wouldn’t question. It didn’t have a mind of its own, it didn’t fly, it didn’t need to be fed actual food, it didn’t need rest or affection or anything to remain loyal. It did exactly as it was told to do when it was told. It felt more like strapping into a big, heavy set of armor than anything else. Or a jacket that had the potential to kill people. Or bash through a building at top speed. But it only would do something so crazy if the driver fucked up; it didn’t just decide it would whack someone with its tail if it got pissed.</p>
<p>Through that training to get behind the wheel and all of the time figuring out how the damn things worked, he’d seen a couple of those ‘fear the road!’ videos and they painted his imagination enough. Well, he started those videos, but he fell asleep within the first minute or two, as per usual and had a dream about it. The images were meant to shock people, he was sure, but everything in this world seemed so unreal. It was so incredibly fake that he almost could have laughed if he cared enough. Good thing he was a quick study since the classes in their entirety had quite literally bored him to sleep.</p>
<p>Haar had only gotten his license as a means for transportation. He didn’t like the bus, he didn’t like taxis, and he wasn’t about to walk everywhere and cut into naptime. Horses weren’t exactly a thing in this ‘modern’ world, as folks who knew his situation would call it. So it was either get a car or learn to ride a bike. He could get the best of both worlds and get a motorcycle, but that hardly seemed efficient if he were to continue doing what he felt he knew best.</p>
<p>Once he had it Haar had gotten into delivery. Again. He probably could’ve just spent his retired years lounging around and learning of things that this world had to offer at a laid-back pace, but it almost was… <em>too</em> <em>much</em> time for naps. Made them a lot less satisfying. And it was depressing as hell to be left with his thoughts for such a questionable amount of time, so back to the courier business he went.</p>
<p>It paid decently enough. He was getting somewhat of an allowance through this world’s church, which struck him as odd, but on top of both streams of cash coming in he probably had enough money to live somewhere else. They’d given him a few options of living spaces, one of which he noted housed Ike of all people - who had taken up the opportunity to disappear from Tellius. So he probably didn’t want any of them dragged around with him.</p>
<p>Haar took another option.</p>
<p>So he was living alone, neighboring some of his former enemies. Working what seemed to be every day. Learning things to help him get around, but simultaneously being completely unable to use any skills he might have had back where he came from. He was just coasting at this point, unwilling to care enough to do much else including finding out why the hell Zelgius was still alive when he <em>definitely</em> saw Ike kill him.</p>
<p>Whatever.</p>
<p>He was on his normal route that cut through the center of the city and dispersed out into residential areas. Before he was back on the road and headed toward the less crowded part of town, he had to hit up all of the major buildings and try to wrap his head around these skyscrapers all built with glass or the like. At least he didn’t have to climb up the damn things.</p>
<p>The city was big according to what he’d been told. But Haar would believe anything at that point. He hadn’t gone too far after getting his license, opting to learn more about his area through travel for work. He could also look up places, maybe take a train or whatever, but he was doing fine where he was. It was in the center of the continent, apparently in a place with the most history people were able to find about the country. So there were plenty of buildings protecting the people high up on the political food chain, at least in one spot where every corner of this portion of the world would gather.</p>
<p>He didn’t care who was working in places like this, what it was he was delivering, or what they even did. What kind of politics even went on in places like this? Apparently, it’d been more or less peaceful for the past several hundred years. Information was easy to receive. The land was plentiful enough to where imports weren’t entirely necessary and the countries surrounding Fodlan were quiet. At least that meant that from a surface view, the place was essentially a haven. Haar knew better than to believe there weren’t corrupt assholes coming into the place every day, making the world worse - but at least there weren’t constant public executions or intentional civil wars to send shit into chaos thus far.</p>
<p>“Last name?” Haar asked, stifling a yawn and taking back the device he had given to whoever signed it.</p>
<p>“Fraldarius.”</p>
<p>He didn’t know how to spell that so he winged it to the best of his ability.</p>
<p>“Alright, have a nice day.”</p>
<p>That was it for a normal interaction, no matter where he went. But the more he came to this particular building at that time, Mr. Fraldarius was the one to sign for the huge package he brought in on one shoulder. Every week he had that unnecessarily huge box. And every week someone would offer to help him as though he hadn’t been the most decorated and lethal unit in an army that succeeded in a war against the <em>goddess</em>. He wasn’t one to judge or to be rude when someone asked, but it was starting to get to him. Was he letting himself go already? Damn.</p>
<p>Box on the counter, device signed, awkward wave, they went their separate ways. Repeat. And again.</p>
<p>This man who always signed for the big box in that huge, important-looking building asking him out for drinks was completely unexpected. Haar hadn’t even looked the guy in the eye. So when he did and noticed that he wasn’t exactly hard to look at, he was likely only a bit older than Haar himself, and that maybe he could see himself going for -</p>
<p>“Sorry, I’ll have to think about it.”</p>
<p>“Ah. No matter, I understand. Please have a nice day, Haar.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. See ya.”</p>
<p>Haar didn’t even remember the exact point he’d given the guy his name, but he remembered <em>his </em>was Rodrigue. So maybe the drinks thing wasn’t as out of the blue as he thought previously. Maybe he should be more frightened by his apparent state of dissociation, maybe he should worry that his entire life had become dropping off boxes, drowning in alcohol, and sleeping. He should have paid more attention to his surroundings, to the people he was meeting. He wasn’t even sure why he said no to Rodrigue’s proposal, if he was to be honest with himself. But he did, and that was that. Over.</p>
<p>The next week he went to deliver that heavy package, Rodrigue wasn’t there at the counter. He definitely didn’t look like the person that was supposed to be anyhow, likely higher ranked than the receptionist that was there, but he always signed for it. She did it instead for once, insisting that it was fine and he didn’t have the energy to dig any deeper.</p>
<p>As he went to leave Rodrigue quite literally bumped into him. Damn peripheral vision.</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry, please excuse -”</p>
<p>“I’m fine. My fault for not paying attention.”</p>
<p>“You are earlier today than usual. Less stops on the way?”</p>
<p>Haar wasn’t one for small talk in the slightest. He wasn’t one to mince words, not one to play around or to humor those who wanted to bend his ear too much. “Nope, still busy.” And he was leaving.</p>
<p>But he stopped before he got to the door. Over the week, he’d realized that it was useless running from every new beorc he met in this new world. It was time to find someone to at least speak to, right? Even if it wasn’t an offer for a date. Even if it didn’t go well. He was in Fodlan for a reason, wasn’t he? “Hey, so… Kinda thinking about that drink still. You free tonight?”</p>
<p>Wait - what was he saying, though?</p>
<p>“Oh, tonight? I…” Something about him just seemed… sad. Defeated. Maybe that’s what stopped him. Haar wasn’t going to ask what it was, but there was something in his expression that he recognized. Rodrigue felt like someone that he could level with, and this look just wasn’t good on him. Haar might as well try it out to make him feel a little better, too. “I… suppose. Yes. Allow me to suggest where we may go?"</p>
<p>Definitely was a date. And it didn’t go terribly - nothing too exciting, neither of them exposing secrets or opening up too far. Just two adult men enjoying their evening together with drinks on the table between them. And not having to tear open wounds seemed to be a welcome change for both of them. It would become routine for them to meet up much more than once a week.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As they sat down in this new place to Rodrigue, a man that looked much too big for the shirt he was wearing put down a plate that only contained a stick of butter, winking at Haar as though he were giving him something incredible. It had happened every time he came to Largo’s restaurant/brewhouse, and he hadn’t touched it yet so he wasn’t exactly sure what the wink was for. Whatever, that guy was always a little off. Haar had decided long ago to just let the guy be.</p>
<p>“What was that about?”</p>
<p>“Oh. He’s being nice.”</p>
<p>“Do… you know him?” Haar's dining partner noted the missing arm and began to concoct his own assumptions on how they may have been acquainted.</p>
<p>“Kinda.”</p>
<p>Haar obviously wasn’t going to expand on it. Wasn’t going to answer why they hadn’t gone to this bar yet if he knew the owner. It opened up a million questions, and though Rodrigue hadn’t really asked any, he was beginning to get overly curious. He had been given half-truths - that was for sure. But as a man working for the government, as a man who raised boys with an inability to correctly voice their thoughts by himself for the most part - he was patient enough to wait. He was too old for any games of course, but again Haar had made it a point not to lie to him. He did warn him in the beginning that he may be biting off more than he could chew, but that made him all the more appetizing.</p>
<p>“So.”</p>
<p>“Something on your mind?”</p>
<p>“This is the fourth <em>date,</em> right?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I suppose it would be. That is only if you don’t count the time we ran into each other…” Rodrigue’s smile was fleeting as he took a drink from his glass. It was nice to think about the times they’d spent together, as he had honestly never expected to be on an actual date again. Especially at his age. It was risky, being a semi-prominent figurehead and going out so much with a man that he had likely been seen speaking to at work. He was, in his mind, twice widowed as well - what had Rodrigue done to deserve any kind of actual relationship at this point in his life? Love and what came with it was for someone young and not for someone who had now, as far as he was concerned, expired in both age and hope for anything like romance.</p>
<p>Rodrigue still loved his late wife. Rodrigue still loved the best friend that he buried. Did he have anything left to give this mysterious man that had come into his life, somehow filling spaces that he had no idea were still empty and complimenting him in such unforeseen ways?</p>
<p>“Alright, fifth. I’ll count it. I had a good time that day too.” He hesitated, but it was obvious he knew what had to be said. “I think then… it’s time I told you the truth. We’re too old to pretend we don’t have baggage at this point, right?”</p>
<p>“I suppose it’s human to hide things, but I agree. I would rather know anything you want me to find out now.”</p>
<p>“Good.” Haar stared down into his drink before he took a long sip. “Would ya believe I’m an immigrant from a newly-popped up continent that’s settling down after a war between all nations, and it kinda started because some wacko who became king got manipulated and wanted to piss off a goddess? That I used to command a group of wyvern riders for a country I couldn’t leave to keep the people I loved out of danger and when they were targeted anyway I defected to the enemy's side just to shove an axe into my boss's chest myself."</p>
<p>Rodrigue blinked.</p>
<p>“Yeah, didn’t think so.” He downed the rest of the glass.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>—————</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rodrigue set the single flower down onto the grave, face pulled tight and breathing steady. It had been many years according to the marker, but Haar practically felt the pain radiating from his partner and ripping through him as though it were still new.</p>
<p>“I lost my greatest friend and my eldest son on this day, years ago.” He had already explained the day's prominence, but hearing it out loud always made it all the more real.</p>
<p>Haar didn’t speak. He stood tall, respectful, allowing him to grieve in the ways he had to. No questions. No words. He had his ear and his thoughts whenever necessary, though it was difficult to keep himself entirely grounded when his own grief was so fresh and the silence was so deafening.</p>
<p>The grave had already been tended to. It was obvious that this one was well-loved, letting Haar see that the wound of his loss had never completely healed over. There were bundles of blue and white flowers that had been placed there what seemed to be the same day. As though someone had slipped into the cemetery before the sunrise to lament their loved one’s passing without anyone knowing. There was no way to know for sure who it was that had visited but they both had their suspicions.</p>
<p>The years carved into the stone twisted Haar’s stomach.</p>
<p>Nineteen between his birth and his death.</p>
<p>Even younger than Jill was.</p>
<p><em>Shiharam’s</em> death shook Haar, snapped and shattered him despite all of his efforts to continue as though he was unaffected. As though he were at peace with his loss. He was working toward it before he was pulled back into war, settling into a life with Jill at his side just as his Commander would have wanted. They could have lived a peaceful life as a wyvern delivery service if Haar hadn’t lost everything that ever meant something to him.</p>
<p>He let his true intentions slip in between who he was at Shiharam’s death and who he was now, standing tall and as stoic as he possibly could as the man he was coming to love held his composure on just a thin wire.</p>
<p>No one looked Haar in the eye when he asked how she was killed. The King of Hawks himself described the battle as gruesome, and all of his party were thoroughly shaken for more reasons than a loss of a comrade. Her body was ‘mostly recovered’ and her wyvern had been ripped apart, no doubt by the laguz that were driven mad. Haar did not have to wonder too much to get his answer when they finally opened up to the horrors that they had seen on their way to their final destination.</p>
<p>The death of his General, his closest friend, the man who would never reciprocate the love that Haar felt but never shoved him away, pulled Haar out of a state of apathy and spiraled him into an unbridled rage and a thirst for revenge. Jill's death was the final nail in his own coffin and he assumed until someone had offered up a trip to Fodlan that he would die soon after whether it be by his sadness or by the unpredictable Talregan weather.</p>
<p>Haar was able to help bring about the new era of peace - but lost General Shiharam, the man he loved. He lost Jill, Shiharam’s daughter, the only bit of family he had left. And he even lost his <em>wyvern,</em> his beloved partner despite how often he’d insult her.</p>
<p>He was to care for their graves. He was supposed to be tending to them, making sure not a single soul could think of doing anything to even the soil that embraced them now. He hated the idea of ever picking up a weapon again, but if anyone were to disrespect either of them, he…</p>
<p>“You are lost in thought. I’d like to hear what it is that’s on your mind.”</p>
<p>“A man should never outlive his child,” he said with little emotion. Rodrigue might have liked to hear his thoughts but Haar wanted nothing to do with them.</p>
<p>“I would give my life in an instant if it meant he would live for only a moment more.” Rodrigue took a long pause as if doing his best to navigate through his feelings and grasp at something new. “You are among the first not to immediately offer your apologies upon learning of his fate.”</p>
<p>Haar furrowed his brow only slightly, looking down at his partner as to hold his posture. He took a pause of his own. “That kind of wound doesn’t heal with pretty words or empty platitudes. Death happens to everyone. And there is nothing we can do about it but to remember and honor those we’ve lost until we're underground, too. I have no place in telling you everything will ever be okay."</p>
<p>He understood.</p>
<p>“Your child.” Rodrigue’s voice was soft, understanding, as though there was not a doubt in his mind. As though everything had finally snapped into place. “You lost them in the war, did you not?”</p>
<p>“Huh?” That rocked him a bit. Haar slouched again. “I’ve never had a kid. Where did that come from?”</p>
<p>“The look in your eye. You can empathize with me. I suppose I assumed too much, I apologize for overstepping.” And he wasn’t entirely convinced, as Haar had very seldom looked truly <em>uncomfortable.</em> He hit a nerve he wasn’t supposed to. But he would learn in time, and Rodrigue would not be impatient with someone who was grieving something that was obviously so fresh.</p>
<p>“Nah, don’t apologize. I haven’t really been open with you about anything. I can see why you’d think that.” He looked down at the boy’s headstone again, letting out a long sigh that stretched out to a yawn. “But here isn’t the place. This is about you and about Glenn. It’s not about anyone else.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Haar.”</p>
<p>An hour passed with very little changes to the tightness of Rodrigue’s features or the silence of the graveyard. It almost startled him to have Haar’s hand placed on his shoulder, but the warmth was more than welcomed. Rodrigue's reaching out to the kids was past due, and it would almost be suspicious if he hadn't said anything by now. He wouldn't say it out loud but he'd try to nudge his partner to check in with those who had surely been there before he even had.</p>
<p>“I’m bushed… you mind if we get out of here? Could use a nap."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hehe they share a voice actor</p></blockquote></div></div>
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